


Resistance

by the_13th_battalion



Series: Zygerria/Kadavo Chronicles [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Manipulation, Mild Blood, Poor Anakin, Punch Scintel In The Face 2021, Slavery, he really needs that hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_13th_battalion/pseuds/the_13th_battalion
Summary: Resistance came easily the first few days.But Anakin Skywalker had been a slave before. Falling back became simpler than resistance.
Series: Zygerria/Kadavo Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127948
Comments: 16
Kudos: 70
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO FRIENDS!!!!! Welcome to my Febuwhump series, or, the Zygerria/Kadavo Chronicles! Every single one of these fics will center around Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex, and they'll take place during and immediately after the Zygerria arc. They'll be released in order of the prompts, not necessarily in chronological order. Most of them will be tagged under "graphic depictions of violence" to be on the safe side.
> 
> Ok ok ok I'll shut up now! Please enjoy the first installment, for the prompt "mind control"! It's more like mind manipulation, but ehhhh close enough. :)

Resistance came easily the first few days.

He knew his name. He remembered his worth. Anakin Skywalker; general, teacher, brother, husband, and son. Hero With No Fear. The Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. Padawan, once, now Master. Ani. Skyguy. Sometimes still “dear one” when the silence deafened him and he sought peace in Obi-Wan’s quarters.

He fought the first few days.

But Anakin Skywalker had been a slave before. Falling back became simpler than resistance.

* * *

“Scum!” the Zygerrian guard spat in his direction, spittle flying in Anakin’s face.

Anakin snorted. “Isn’t ‘scum’ a little overused?”

A fist flew out faster than he anticipated, a solid punch to his jaw. He hit the ground, coughing blood onto the pristine marble tile. A boot stepped in his line of sight. A sneering face followed.

“You’re a bold one. I wouldn’t speak like that to the Queen if I were you. She doesn’t like it when her slaves talk back.”

Anakin smiled, showing off his stained teeth. “Well, she’ll have to learn to like it.”

The guard laughed and left him on the floor.

* * *

“Here, pet,” Scintel purred, beckoning him to the throne.

Anakin scowled and remained where he leaned against the wall. “It’s Anakin.”

Scintel sat straighter, her golden eyes narrowed to slits. “I’ll decide what you’re called. Now come here.”

Anakin crossed his arms. He kept his eyes fixed on the chandelier. The gold glinted in the afternoon sun. It reminded him of her eyes. Anger pumped through his veins, boiling hot, burning in his limbs.

He barely registered the swish of silk before she was upon him. She snatched his chin and forced him to face her, claws digging bloody pits in his cheeks. He drew in a sharp breath as their gazes met.

Scintel’s purr turned to a low growl. “When I call you, you come to me.”

Anakin’s nostrils flared. His anger rose. His heart pounded with it, the Force thick and inky black with his hatred. He could snap her neck. He could break her wrist, twist her arm clean off, toss her out the window.

It would be _so easy_.

Yet he stayed there, frozen despite the fire blazing in him. _Not yet. Not while she has Ahsoka in a cage. Not while she has Obi-Wan and Rex hidden. Not yet. Wait._

“I have a name. It’s Anakin. You should try using it.”

She smirked and withdrew her hand. “Someday that name will lose all meaning to you.”

Anakin’s hands clenched in fists. Thin trails of blood ran down his throat, the marks stinging his cheeks. He glared at Scintel’s retreating figure.

_I’ll always remember that I’m a Skywalker._

* * *

Anakin followed Scintel, on her right and slightly behind her, eerily reminiscent of his padawan days. She spoke to him and the group of guards around them. He ignored her in favor of mentally spewing Huttese curses to drown out her words.

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. He halted inches away.

“You will stay with me,” she said, jabbing her finger against his chest, “and you will not interfere.”

He ground his teeth. “Fine.”

The triumph in her eyes made his skin crawl.

Scintel led him out on a balcony. His steps faltered. They were back at the scene of the auction only two days prior. He forced down the bile rising in his throat and pointedly avoided looking at the platform below, afraid of the memories he had repressed.

Scintel settled into her chair. Anakin stood beside her, his eyes fixed on his feet. His heart thumped loudly in his chest. He folded his hands behind his back to hide their trembling.

A mistake. That too reminded him of Obi-Wan. He swallowed more bile.

Anakin couldn’t hear what went on around him over the rush of blood in his ears. He stayed still and counted out his breaths. He dug his nails into his palm. He kept his eyes lowered.

With an abrupt surge of grief, the Force cried out, swelling and pulsing around him. He shivered and answered its call. He dragged his gaze up to the platform.

A young man knelt on the stone. Dirt and blood caked his skin. Stained rags hung off his bony frame. His face contorted in pain as a Zygerrian brought an electrowhip down on his back. Over the noise in Anakin’s ears, the crowd in the stands roared.

Anakin’s jaw tightened. The familiar slither of cold hatred wrapped around his heart.

“Stop this.”

Scintel cast an uninterested glance his way. “What was that?”

He tore his gaze away from the man below. “Stop! He doesn’t deserve this!”

She smirked and turned her face to him, her hand lazily dangling off the edge of the armrest. “And how do you know that?”

“No one deserves to be tortured!”

“He spoke out against his master. He must be punished.”

Anakin’s gut twisted. He looked back to the man, who jerked and writhed in his chains. Under the layers of dust, his hair shone copper in the sun.

He marched forward. He reached for the railing, prepared to leap down and pull the man to safety. “Stop! This is cruel and _wrong_ -”

With a rustle of silk, Scintel stood. “Get back here!”

Anakin swung his foot up on the railing. His metal hand gripped the stone hard enough to crumble the edges.

Rough hands grabbed his arms and hauled him back. He fell on his knees with an audible _crack_. His hands flew out to prevent his forehead from meeting the same fate. He caught a flash of blue fabric out of the corner of his eye before his vision went dark. Pain flared in his side. An electric current shot through his limbs. When it subsided, he had the chance to let out a trembling gasp before something rammed into his side again and electricity coursed through his body.

Someone screamed. He briefly lost consciousness. Once awareness returned, he was on his back, limbs still twitching from residual electricity. Scintel and several guards towered over him. One of the guards held a vibrospear close to his ribs, hovering over the bruises no doubt forming on his left side.

Scintel’s eyes blazed. “Get him up.”

A guard fisted his large hand in Anakin’s hair and pulled him upright. Anakin cried out. His throat burned; it occurred to him that maybe _he_ had screamed. He grasped at the Zygerrian’s wrist in a futile attempt to free himself.

Scintel exhaled a sigh of disapproval, her breath hot on his skin. “I told you not to interfere. Let this be a lesson, and a warning.”

With a wave of her hand, the guards released him. Anakin’s legs gave out and he fell hard on his backside. He scrambled backwards until he hit the wall. He drew his knees up to his chest and curled his arms around his stomach. Tears blurred his vision as he watched Scintel return to her seat, smiling as if nothing had happened, as if she were watching a comedic holovid and not the drawn out execution of an innocent man.

Anakin stayed still and listened until the man’s screams ceased.

The crowd cheered. Anakin sobbed.

* * *

“Come here,” Scintel called, beckoning with her finger.

Anakin crossed the room and knelt on one knee in front of her throne. His ribs protested from the beating they had received the day before. He kept his eyes on the floor. He pressed his lips in a line and forced back a groan.

She let out a low laugh as she stood. She circled him, lightly tracing her nail across his shoulders and upper back. Anakin held himself still. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Get me a drink,” she murmured, “then come and stand by me.”

A bitter taste filled Anakin’s mouth. He closed his eyes.

“Yes, my queen.”

**Author's Note:**

> It was at this point that the friends I sent this to yelled at me for being so mean to Anakin... feel free to do the same, I thrive off of that skdkskks


End file.
